Flag
by surprisedreader
Summary: Arthur looks at Alfreds flag and thinks about what it means about him. slight US/UK


Arthur sighed softly under his breath as the door was finally shut firmly behind him. Too long…It had been too long since he'd seen the boy, no man. He was a man now without a doubt.

Another sigh tried to escape him but he held it back and straighten his already perfect posture before starting to walk away. It didn't matter. All that mattered was getting out of this damn place and going home to his rain covered country and sit by his fire and drink his tea and not think about the child who was now a man…a country. Something he'd told himself the other would never be strong enough to be.

At the edge of the porch Arthur paused and looked up towards the night sky.

Space was never his thing. That was Ivan and Alfred's dreams that laid in that vast coldness. He preferred the sea. The waves, to the clouds. The millions of fish below him, to the billions of stars out there. The wood of his boat, to the metal of a spaceship. The feel of the wind and spray of water on his face, to the feel of oxygen being forced into a helmet.

Arthur was forced out of his thoughts as the wind picked up and something rough brushed against the side of his face. He reached a hand up quickly grabbing the edge of the object and held it still against his cheek a moment. It was undoubtedly cloth but too rough to be clothing. At least too rough to be any clothing they made nowadays. Pulling the cloth away he caught a flash of red in the dull light of Alfreds porch and then a equal stripe of white.

Letting go as if the material was on fire, Arthur took a step back and looked up at the embodiment of his failure.

The Flag stretched out in its full fifty star and thirteen strip covered glory giving Arthur a full view of his once Colony's accomplishments before the wind stilled and the Flag dropped back down resting again.

For one maddening second Arthur wanted to tear the Flag down. Wanted to rip it off its pole and tear it to shreds. He sucked and unsteady breath of air into his lungs before the wind blew gently again lifting the Flag slightly and he reached out grabbing the thing planning to do just as his rage was telling him too.

Thirteen. The Flag said to him. You kept me at thirteen and look at me now. Fifty! Look how far I have gotten without you England.

Arthur's hands tightened around the cloth. A cotton and polyester blend that he could destroy without batting an eye under normal circumstances. But when was anything normal when it came to Alfred.

Before he even knew what had happened he had his face buried into the material sobbing so hard it shook his whole body.

Oh God not now. He thought desperately. I have been so good for so long please God don't let me lose it over him now. His body was shaking so bad that his knees gave out and he dropped gracelessly onto the wooden porch, flag still in hand as it ripped away from its metal pole.

"Arthur?" The voice was questioning and cautious.

Arthur's body jolted as if the owner of the voice had struck him before he lifted his face from the Flag and couldn't hid the tear tracks down his face. "America-" He pulled the flag tighter to his chest. Already hating himself for what he knew he was going to ask next. "Why?"

Alfred sighed stepping outside the threshold of his house and walked over to Arthur before sitting down and pulling the smaller man into his lap making the Brit half sputter in indignation and half sob in misery.

Alfred sighed again and rested his head against Arthurs dirty blond mop of hair. "Because." He said speaking softly; as if he spoke any louder Arthur might try and flee as he placed his hand over one of the Brits still clutching the Flag and squeezed. "Sometimes Arthur…You have to stand alone. To see if you can still stand at all…I was with you for so long. And you held me up that whole time. You gave me my first thirteen Arthur." Alfred said running his free hand over the red and white stripes of his flag. "And for that I will be forever grateful. But…" The American tightened his hold on Arthur. "You never let me use my own legs. You controlled everything and I knew I needed to show you that I was an adult and that I was destined for more than letting you hold me up. I needed to see if I was strong enough Arthur."

The Brit couldn't stop the sob that escaped him any more then he have controlled Alfred's undying need for freedom. "Come on." Alfred said softly into his ear. "Don't cry Arthur. I'm still here for you. You know that." The American said nuzzling his face against Arthur's neck. "Please don't cry."

"I'm not crying git!" England said trying to shove away but Alfred smiled and pulled him close again before standing back up keeping the Brit in his arms. "What are you doing! Put me down! Put me down this instant."

"Well I can't send you home looking like this Arthur! What would you queen say!" Alfred chirped happily walking them back into the house and kicking the door shut behind him.

Arthur sputtered and hissed and fought to free himself but the larger nation refused to release him before he was dropped onto a bed and the flag pulled from his grasp. He gasped reaching out for it like it was his last lifeline before Alfred gave it one good jerk like one would when making a bed. It hung above Arthur for a split second that seemed like and eternity before it settled over him like a blanket. Arthur laid there stunned for a moment.

It had been like an awful foreshadowing. Would Alfred someday try to take over the world? Would that giant flag someday cover his whole land as it covered him now? Would young beautiful Amerca someday be as crazy as the rest of them?

The bed dipped and Alfred crawled under the 'blanket' wrapping his arms around Arthur. "I do not need your protection brat." The Brit said ignoring his inner worries for the moment, putting them off for now.

"I know you don't." America said nuzzling closer. Arthur wondered if it was to be comforting or to try and smother him. "But if is nice isn't it…to know that you can have it…if you needed it." He said gently and Arthur sighed heavily placing one hand on Alfred's head and the other pushing the flag down releasing their upper bodies from the cocoon Alfred had made them.

"Yes Alfred. It is a comforting thought." He lied letting the other hold him as his tears dried.

Right now he didn't have to worry. America was young. Still so young. But someday. Someday that flag will try to cover him and it will not be a friendly comforting thing. Surely Alfred would think he was helping. The child always thought he was helping when he took something over. But then the world would see. It would see the beautiful, monster he had created. The beautiful monster that carried a flag that embodied the United Kingdom's greatest failure. And someday, he had no doubt, that that failure would try to cover the world with its stars and stripes.

Review?

This one is a little bit of a mess I think. I don't like it all that much but please let me know what you think.


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